


Attachments

by printessa



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 11:41:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3766780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/printessa/pseuds/printessa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This is a prime example as to why Uta hates attachments."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Attachments

Uta can't help noticing the rain. It's always raining in Tokyo, or so it seems. He's indifferent to the weather, as he is when it comes to most things. Indifference makes it easier to get by, he thinks. With a lack of interest comes a lack of attachment, and to leave behind all attachments seems an ideal way to live. Attachments were simply shackles that keep one bound to their captor, after all.

Yomo trudges into his shop, soaking wet and boots squeaking against the linoleum flooring. "Try not to track too much water in." Uta doesn't have to turn around to know who it is. He's still hunching over his work table, glasses perching on the tip of his nose as he pulls a few last stitches through the thick fabric of his latest creation. He doesn't need to acknowledge his guest any further, not until he places the mask on its stand and spins around in his stool.

Immediately, he can see the deep lines etched into those usually placid features.

There is a side to Uta that others have not, cannot see. It's the side of him that's already standing up, hands cupping Yomo's cheeks as his thumbs try desperately to smooth away those lines. "It's happened again, hasn't it?" The time fits. It's nearly two in the morning; not an unusual hour for Uta to be awake, but only one reason as to why Yomo would make this trip so late.

When he gets a nod out of the silver-haired male, Uta is moving them through the shop, away from his workplace and into the back, where his room was set up (much like an efficiency apartment). He can remember a time when he might have told Yomo to 'get over it' or 'man up,' but their relationship has grown passed that. Instead, he carefully helps his guest out of his sopping wet jacket and towards the lumpy futon. It's hardly the most comfortable, but Yomo has never been one to complain.

"I suppose you don't want to talk about it." Yomo is never much of a talker (not unless Itori slips him some extra wine), so Uta isn't surprised when he shakes his head. Nightmares aren't uncommon for either of them, but Yomo seems to suffer the most. His heart is so much softer than Uta's will ever be, and that's something that he both admires and disdains about his Raven. Even then, the only reason he disdains it is because it leaves him like this - tired, lifeless, _sad_.

This is a prime example as to why Uta hates attachments.

Without a word from either of them, he helps Yomo out of his socks and jeans (he doesn't want his sheets to get soaked from them) and props himself up against the wall, which serves as his headboard, pulling the other ghoul into his lap. It isn't a comfortable position for him, especially because he's been working all day, but he knows this is the quickest way to comfort his partner. Within seconds, he can feel fists clenching at his top, pulling at the fabric as Yomo presses his face against Uta's abdomen, smothering himself.

"Breathe." Uta reminds him, reaching down with one lithe hand and rubbing at the other's back. He's trembling, body wracked with the sobs that he's trying to hold on. Uta keeps quiet, except for the occasional reminders of "inhale" and "exhale" because right now Yomo can't seem to remember how his lungs are supposed to work. It takes time before he does.

Yomo hardly ever cries, and tonight is no different. Uta is eventually lying down, as well, tangling his legs with the other's as he brushes damp, silvery locks from his face.

"Let go." He murmurs.

"I can't." Yomo's voice is lower than usual, hoarse.

Uta expects no other answer. He can never let go of the memory of his sister. She is the anchor at the end of the chains that hold Yomo down. Even if he is passed the desire for revenge, the memory continues to pain him.

In some ways, Uta understands. He has always hated attachments, but Yomo has somehow managed to hook himself into the ghoul's very skin. It's intimate and painful, but he knows that he can never pull himself from Yomo in the way that he's pulled himself from so many others. It would only result in him ripping away parts of himself.


End file.
